


Suspects

by crazywalls



Series: Thriller Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Tattoos, Art, Cop!Dean, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, Murder, Thriller AU, artist!Cas, everyone is human, human!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-15 12:28:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3447203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazywalls/pseuds/crazywalls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is working a difficult case as homicide detective with a killer being on the loose when he meets his new neighbour Cas. The two of them get to know each other better but Dean somehow is suspicious of the man with the incredibly blue eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Neighbours

It was late at night when Dean Winchester pushed his key into the lock. He hated this part of his job: coming home in the middle of the night, frustrated because they weren’t able to get a break-through with their case but having to sleep because he hadn’t done so for more than 32 hours. Fucking police work. But this job was his life, no matter what.

Closing the door behind him, he took of his leather jacket and dropped it carelessly on the floor. A quick glance at the clock in his small living room told him it was already nearly four a.m. Great. He’d have to get back to the station at eight.

Dean undressed and stepped into the bathroom. All he wanted was a few hours of sleep. And catching the killer they had been searching for for the last two weeks. But this son of a bitch just didn’t leave any trace behind.

Dean didn’t have a problem with corpses or autopsies and such – a big plus since he worked homicide – and sometimes he wished he could just make these monsters pay himself. Sometimes he hated protocol.

Trying to forget the case for a while, he turned on the hot water and let it run down his tired, aching body. A few minutes later he crawled into bed, wearing nothing but boxers although it was quite chilly. He liked it that way.

At least it was quiet. The guy that had moved into the flat above his own seven weeks ago probably was even more of a night person than Dean was. He listened to loud music, cooked, and now and then Dean woke up from crashing noises. Or moans.

After the first four weeks Dean had given up on counting how often he had heard his new neighbour getting his brains fucked out. Or fucking some dudes brains out. Whatever. He usually didn’t have any problems with hearing people having sex but he really needed what little sleep he could get so he wasn’t very delighted about these interruptions of his sleep.

Awesome. Not for the first time in the last few weeks his thoughts had trailed off to his neighbor. He didn’t even know the guy’s name but damn, those blue eyes… Since they’d run into each other once a few weeks earlier he couldn’t quite forget these eyes. And if he was honest with himself the thought of this guy sweating and moaning kinda turned him on.

Alright, Dean. Time to sleep. Seriously. He turned around and closed his eyes, cursing himself. A couple of minutes later, he was sleeping deeply.

***

God, he hated this fucking case. This nutjob had killed five women and they still didn’t have a damn clue. He needed something, anything. Couldn’t just sit around, wait for a new hint. The cases were almost cold by now. Every cop knew that the first 48 hours were the most important ones. It had been over a month now since the first victim had been killed. Dean knew that the time was running, this bastard could be killing again every minute. And there was nothing he could do to stop it. To stop him.

Dean had always known he’d become a cop. He just had the need to protect people, save the ones in danger. As kids, his brother Sam had always been annoyed by Dean’s overprotective behavior. The thought of Sammy brought a smile to Dean’s face. The kid was becoming a lawyer, and Dean was damn sure his baby brother would be an awesome one. Not that he liked lawyers that much, but Sam was different. He was kind and Dean never could be mad at him, no matter what. When this was over, he’d have to go for some drinks with Sam. He hadn’t seen him in what felt like years.

***

Nine hours later, Dean’s heart was pounding fast, adrenaline rushed through his body. He and his team were surrounding an old, small, run-down building on the outskirts of the city. They’d finally gotten the long-awaited break-through in form of a witness eventually showing up at a police station, stating she’d seen the second murder. Poor kid was still shaken up but she had been able to identify the suspect.

Dean was hyperaware of his surroundings, the cold air rushing into his lungs, the bullet proof vest pressing against his upper body, the two dozen other cops waiting anxiously for the sign to move. Finally, their boss waved for them to close in.

One of the detectives kicked in the door and they entered the house. A couple of hours later, the suspect was in custody and policemen and techs were searching the whole place; Dean and his partner Benny Lafitte were sent home. Others would take care of the crime scene, the interrogation was postponed to the next morning.

***

It was 1:35 am when Dean walked up the stairs to his third floor flat. He was about to open his door when he heard a low thump from the fourth floor, then the sound of a door being jerked open and a man coughing. Then he smelled the smoke. Taking two steps at a time he rushed up the stairs to find his neighbour bent over, gasping for air.

“What the hell’s going on?!” Dean grabbed the guy’s shoulder, urging him to look up at him.

When the smaller man didn’t answer, Dean stormed into the flat, looking for the source of the smoke. It wasn’t hard to find. The whole attic flat was full of it but the kitchen obviously was the source of the reek. Luckily, this guy had already blown out the fire. Looked like he had burned his food – whatever this once had been, Dean really couldn’t say – and with it half of his kitchen.

Dean tore open the window after he had made sure that the fire was definitely blown out and returned to the corridor where his neighbor was still standing.

“Hey, you okay?”

The dark haired man looked up at him with watery eyes and nodded. “Yes, I think so.”

“Dude, you scared the crap out of me! I thought you’d burn the whole house to the ground!”

“My apologies. I was distracted for a moment and it just… happened, I guess.”

Dean looked him over, spotting colourful stains on the man’s shirt and even a few in his face.  
“Well, I hope you learned your lesson,” he muttered. “Your whole flat stinks.”

The smaller man didn’t respond and the uncomfortable silence lingered for a few seconds until Dean offered his hand. “I’m Dean, by the way. Live in the flat below yours.”

“Castiel. It is very nice to meet you.” He shook Dean’s hand.

His touch was firm and warm and Dean felt like he could get lost in those eyes… He blinked and cleared his throat. “So, umm… what’re you gonna do now? I mean, you going to sleep in there?”

Castiel grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand. “I guess I don’t have any other option. I’ll have to leave the windows open, though.”

“You know that’s gonna be fucking cold, right?” Dean said, raising one eyebrow. “I mean, you could sleep on my couch,” he burst out. Oh, shit. Damn it. What the fuck were you just thinking?

But Castiel just smiled up at him. “That would be very kind. But only if it isn’t inconvenient.”  
“Nah, don’t worry, it’s okay.” Dean’s cheeks turned into a light pink, he was visibly embarrassed.

“Well then I better get some clothes,” Castiel said and headed for what had to be his bedroom.

“You do that, just come down when you’re ready…” With these words, Dean turned around, walked down the stairs and into his flat. Holy crap. He still couldn’t believe that his neighbour with these beautiful eyes was going to sleep in his flat. Hectically, Dean rushed through the rooms, making sure nothing Castiel shouldn’t see was lying around. Not that there was much, Dean spent most of his time on the job or in bars, this flat was mainly used for showering, preparing meals – if he had the time – and sleeping.

Five minutes and a frantic search for another blanket later there was a soft knock on the door. When Dean opened he saw Castiel standing in front of his door, wearing pyjama pants and an old college t-shirt. A small blue spot was still visible on his jaw.

“Umm, come in. Hope you opened every single window up there…” Great, he already was talking like a complete idiot. Pull yourself together, he thought, letting Castiel step inside and closing the door. “Hey, you want a beer?”

“I’d really like that, thanks.” Castiel walked into the living room and looked around curiously. “How long have you been living here?”

“About three years now, why?” Dean returned, handing Castiel a bottle of beer and taking a sip of his own one.

“Pretty much looks like you just moved in. There’s nothing personal here.” He gestured around the room.

”Yeah, right… Well, I’m not home much. The job, you know?”

Castiel looked at him, waiting for an explanation.

“I’m a cop… Homicide detective.”

“Interesting.” Was that all he had to say? Well, whatever.

“So, umm… do you like it here?” Damn, what on earth was it with that guy that he could make him that nervous? Never before had he felt that insecure around someone. Dean always kept his cool, whether it was with a suspect, superior or a guy or chick he was attracted to. But Castiel somehow made him edgy.

“It’s really nice. I mean, I usually don’t really leave my flat that much and I haven’t met any of the neighbours yet – except for you, of course…” He assessed Dean, making him feel even more uncomfortable. The cop saw something flashing in the other man’s eyes, yet he couldn’t say what it was. Only then did he realize that Castiel had stopped talking and looked at him expectantly.

“Sorry, what?”

“Why don’t we sit down and talk a little? You know, get to know each other.”

Dean blinked, suddenly very aware of the few hours of sleep he’d had in the last weeks. “That sounds like a great idea, but I actually…” he had to stifle a yawn, “actually am freaking tired and I have to get up early. But why don’t we meet up one of these days?”

Castiel flashed a smile. “Yeah, sounds good. I’m gonna let you sleep now, good night. And thanks again for letting me stay here.”

“Sure. Night.” Before leaving the living room, Dean turned around for the last time. “I’ll be up quite early, so when you get up I’ll probably be already gone.”

“Alright. Guess I’ll see you around then. And by the way, you can call me Cas.”

“Cas. Okay. Well, good night then.” With these words Dean headed for his bedroom, closed the door, changed into something more comfortable to sleep, and lay down in his bed.

As he had anticipated, his thoughts immediately wandered to his neighbour sleeping in the adjacent room. Nonetheless he was fast asleep only a few minutes later.

***

At seven a.m., Dean’s alarm went off. He got up, dressed and had breakfast. When he left the bathroom, he nearly ran into Cas.

“Morning,” the smaller man smiled up at him, looking pretty tired, his hair tousled. His husky voice sent shivers down Dean’s spine.

“Hey. Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you…”

“Don’t worry, you didn’t. But I guess I better go back in my flat before everything freezes. So, what about that getting to know each other? Do you have any plans for tonight?”

Dean hesitated. “I don’t really have plans but I’m in the middle of a case and I don’t know when I’ll be home…”

Cas looked at him knowingly. “You know what, let’s say tonight at ten at that Irish pub four blocks from here. If you can’t make it, give me a call or text me. You got something to write?”

Dean fished his cell phone out of his pants’ pocket. “Just tell me, I’ll write in your number.”

Two minutes later, Cas said goodbye and Dean left for work. One the one hand he hoped he’d be able to meet Cas that night, one the other hand he knew he’d be nervous as hell. Although he’d never admit that to anyone.

Trying to focus on the task ahead, he climbed into his ’67 Impala and drove to the station. He and Benny would observe the interrogation so he really had to concentrate. It’d probably be a long day. Again.

Meeting Benny in front of the station, the two detectives headed for the incident room before joining a few colleagues behind the one-way mirror of the interrogation room.

Coffee in hand, Dean tried to listen to his superior, Sergeant Bobby Singer, who conducted the interrogation together with Sergeant Fergus “Crowley” MacLeod.

“Hey, buddy, what’re you dreamin’ of?” Detective Garth Fitzgerald nudged Dean in the side when the latter didn’t respond.

“What?” Dean looked up, meeting Garth’s gaze.

“Dude, you’ve been starin’ through that window without any movement for the past 15 minutes. What were you…”

He was cut off by Benny. “Hey, would you continue your coffee party outside? There are people in this room who want to listen.”

Garth just grinned at Benny and mouthed a “sorry”. But he was right, Dean’s thoughts had trailed off again. He really had to pull himself together. Sipping his nearly cold coffee, he concentrated on Sergeant Singer again.

“… have a witness that saw you choking Miss Miller to death. This witness identified you as the killer. So why don’t you do us all a favor and talk?”

The suspect, a guy in his forties going by the name "Alastair", looked at Bobby without any emotion showing in his eyes and remained silent. Without a warning, Sergeant Crowley reached over the table, grabbed the suspect’s collar and pulled him into a half-standing position, forcing the guy to look directly into the Sergeant’s eyes. “Talk, you bloody piece of…”

Sergeant Singer laid a hand on Crowley’s arm as the suspect’s lawyer jumped up, making him let go of the suspect. “Alright. C’mon, let’s take a break.” He ushered Sergeant Crowley out of the room.

“Guess they’re gonna keep him in suspense for a while. But I don’t think that bastard is gonna say a single word,” Benny muttered and left the small room, probably to look for something to eat. The room emptied until only Garth and Dean were left.

“Soo, you gonna talk about it?” Garth grinned at his colleague.

Dean folded his arms and replied: “Talk about what?”

“Aaw, c’mon, you’ve obviously been daydreaming. ‘bout what?”

“Why do cops always have to be fucking nosy?” Dean groaned.

“You’re one yourself, buddy.”

“Yeah, whatever. It’s nothing. Really. Just tired, didn’t sleep much.” At least that part was true.

“If you say so.” Garth still grinned. 

Dean rolled his eyes and left the small room, following his colleagues. He had a feeling that Benny was right, that guy wouldn’t talk. This whole interrogation seemed useless. They needed more. And every one of them knew it. Except for the witness’s statement all they had was circumstantial evidence. 

All in all, this investigation was really frustrating. Even though they had this suspect they couldn’t make a case against him. Not yet at least. And who knew how long it would take them to find anything else that was useful – if they found anything else at all. After all, they couldn’t hold him forever.

***

It was way past nine when Dean decided to tell Cas he wouldn’t make it. The whole team was still working on getting other leads which included interviewing possible witnesses and the people living near the crime scenes again as well as checking on anything the forensic team came up with. Dean doubted they would get anything new. So did everyone else. But they didn’t have any other options.

But what exactly should he write? After a few minutes, the detective decided to call his neighbour. He dialed his number and after five rings, Cas answered.

“Hey. I’m sorry, I gotta tell you that I won’t be able to meet you at that pub tonight. We’re still working a case and it doesn’t look like I will leave in the next hour or so.“

“Don’t worry. You know, I won’t go to bed until the early morning, so why don’t you just come over when you get home? I mean, if it’s not too late for you…”

There was something in Cas’s voice that irritated Dean but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Hell, the guy himself irritated him.

“Umm yeah, that sounds good. See you then.” Dean hadn’t realised that Garth was standing right behind him until he heard him uttering: “You having a date?”

Jerking around, Dean nearly dropped his phone. “Son of a bitch! Garth, do you always have to snoop around? Damn it!”

“Sorry, was just walking by when I saw you. So?”

“Not that it’s any of your business but no, I don’t have a date.”

“Then who was that?”

Dean just sighed and left Garth standing in the hall, hoping he wouldn’t dig deeper. He was a nice guy and a good cop despite being absentmindedly now and then. But he always seemed to have a need to help people with their personal business which meant he constantly nosed into everything.

Way more important now was that he concentrated on his job and stopped worrying about meeting Cas later. He’d already thought about sneaking into his flat to avoid meeting him but that probably wouldn’t work. And he wasn’t a coward. So it looked like their…get-together was still on. Why the hell did he even worry? The guy was his neighbour and it was nothing but them getting to know each other a little. Except for the fact that Dean already knew more than he really wanted to regarding Cas’s sex life.

Focus, god dammit!

Nearly two hours later, Dean got into his Impala and finally headed home. He was weary and kind of nervous but determined to meet Cas now. After he’d had a shower. A few hours of sleep would be great too, but four hours were basically enough so he’d visit his neighbour before getting some sleep. After all, he didn’t have to stay long.

Looking for some fresh clothes after he’d gotten out of the shower, he was walking into his bedroom when he heard the sound his phone made when he’d gotten a text. Who the hell was texting him now?

Still only wearing a towel wrapped around his hips, he turned and fished his phone out of his favourite leather jacket’s pocket. It was a message from Sam who wanted to know if Dean had some time to go for lunch and catch up at some point in the next few days. Quickly, Dean answered his little brother and returned to his closet to get dressed. He decided to go with jeans and a plaid shirt over a black t-shirt, then he grabbed his keys, closed the door behind him and went up the stairs to Cas’s flat.

Slightly nervous, he knocked. A few seconds later, Cas opened the door, smiling up at him.  
“Hey there, glad you could make it. Come in.”

He led the way into his living room. A faint smell of smoke still lingered in the air. Dean had never been in one of the other flats in this house so he looked around curiously. Cas’s flat in the attic took up the whole floor and looked like a studio; nearly every inch of the big living room/study was covered with sketches, drawings and painting utensils, except for the sofa and end table.

“I… umm… I cleaned up just a bit…” Cas said apologetically.

Dean grinned. “A bit, huh? I see that.” 

“Yeah, I was pretty much caught up in work and lost track of time.”

“What do you do for a living? Painting?” Interested, Dean took a closer look at some of the drawings that hung on the wall, most of them unfinished.

“Yes, basically. I’m an illustrator.”

“Really? These are pretty good. Wouldn’t have expected you to be the creative kind of guy.”

Now it was Castiel’s turn to look amused. “Why? What kind of guy did you think I am?”

“I-I don’t know…” Awesome. Now he even started to stutter. And you’re a detective… “It’s just… Never mind, forget I said that.”

“All right… Have a seat. You want a beer?”

“Beer sounds great.” Dean smiled at Cas and settled on the sofa while the dark-haired man got the drinks. He placed one bottle in front of Dean on the end table and sat down at the other end of the sofa.

“So, tell me something about yourself,” he said.

Dean thought for a moment. “There’s not much to tell I guess. As I already mentioned I work as a cop and as you probably realized I live alone. Don’t have much time for hobbies. Well, except for my baby…” 

Cas looked at him with an arched eyebrow. 

“Um, my car.” 

“I see.” The cop still couldn’t decipher Cas’s expression. 

Dean shifted uncomfortably in the awkward silence that followed.

“So, um… What about you? What do you do when you don’t paint illustrations?” Or hook up with guys and have sex the whole night…

“I draw for the fun of it. Or I read. I’m pretty much into thrillers.” A sheepish smile lit Castiel’s face. “They’re very gripping and suspenseful but there’s no actual danger. Probably sounds really stupid to you but I prefer it this way.”

Dean grinned. “Nah, I get it. But honestly, police work definitely isn’t as interesting as it’s depicted in books or TV shows. It’s mostly just frustrating and kinda boring cause all you do is listen to people, hearing the same stories over and over again, keeping people under surveillance or write reports.”

“Then why do you do that?”

“Good question. I feel like I have to do it. You know, saving people, hunting killers.” Dean smirked and took another sip before resuming. “It kinda runs in the family. My dad was a homicide cop and both of my grandfathers worked for the military. My little brother is the only one who’s not really in the ‘family business’. He wants to become a lawyer. Never liked the idea of joining the police.”

“Are you and your family close?”

“There’s only me and Sam. Our dad was killed on the job and our mom died when we were kids. But Sammy and I are pretty close. What about your family?”

Cas set the bottle down on the end table. “I have a couple of brothers and sisters but we all aren’t very close. I haven’t seen some of them in years. Mostly because they live all over the world.” After a moment Cas asked seemingly casually, “Any other close relationships?”

Dean looked up from his bottle to meet Cas’s eyes. “Nope, not really. Except for my partner maybe, we go for a beer after solving a case now and then but that’s basically it. What about you?”

“I was talking about a girlfriend or boyfriend.” Cas smirked. “And no, I don’t have a steady relationship.”

“Thought so.”

Only when Castiel looked at him with a slightly confused expression Dean realized he had uttered his thoughts. Oh crap.

“I mean… Um, well…” Feverishly, Dean looked for a plausible explanation. He felt his cheeks blushing and stared at the now empty beer bottle in his hand.

“You saw me bring home someone, huh?”

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Kinda?” Cas squinted at Dean. 

“Just noticed you had some visitors quite late.” 

Castiel shrugged. “Yeah, well, guess now and then even I need company.”

Now and then? More like 4 times a week…Whatever, none of your business, Winchester.

“And I just like meeting new people, especially since I don’t really know anyone here yet. Anyway, you seem tired, probably should get some sleep.” 

“You’re right. Had a hell of a day…” Dean stood up and put his bottle down.

Cas led the way to the door. Before opening it, he turned around to Dean and smiled up at him. “It was really nice talking to you. If you want we could repeat that some day. You know, just chatting a little or something like that.”

“Yeah, sounds nice.” Dean walked past Cas into the hallway. “Good night.”

“Good night, detective.” Cas smiled again and closed the door.

As Dean headed down the stairs to his own flat he suddenly halted. Chatting a little or ‘something like that’? What had he been talking about? Dean sighed and shrugged, it was too late and he was definitely too tired to overanalyze everything now. He opened the door to his flat and lay in his bed a few minutes later, snoring softly.


	2. Detective work

With a groan Dean rolled out of bed the next morning. After two cups of coffee and a cold shower he finally was able to think straight.

When he arrived at the precinct he ran into Crowley. “Tell everybody we have a meeting in five minutes,” his superior growled at him.

Uh-oh. That didn’t sound good.

A couple of minutes later, the sounds of several people quietly discussing the case and the rustling of paper filled one of the conference rooms. Singer and Crowley entered the room and went to the front.

“Look who joined us.” Benny mumbled a moment later.

Dean looked around until his gaze found who Benny was talking about. With a grin he leaned over to Garth who hadn’t noticed the new arrival yet. “Hey, guess who’s here.”

Garth looked up at Dean who nodded over to a small brunette that was now heading to the front of the room as well. “Looks like the guys from forensics found something.”

As soon as Garth spotted her his cheeks flushed in a light pink. Benny just rolled his eyes. “C’mon, not again. What the hell is it about that girl that you like?”

“She’s just… I don’t know. I mean have you seen her?” 

“Yup. Don’t see anything special about Masters.”

“Why do you hate her so much?” Garth looked at Benny with wide eyes. Pretty much everyone in this room knew he had a huge crush on the forensic scientist. Except for Meg of course. She probably didn’t even know he existed.

Dean butted in. “He doesn’t hate her. He’s pissed cause she turned him down.”

“She didn’t –“

“Gentlemen, would you please be quiet?” That wasn’t a request, Sergeant Singer had uttered it as an order.

When everyone had stopped talking, Crowley began to speak. “Alright, guys, we have a problem. The lab results came back. Our suspect can definitely be connected to three of our victims, means we’ll keep him in custody. But there was something unexpected that came up with the search of the forensics team in the house where we found the suspect two days ago. Masters?”

Meg started elucidating what they had discovered while analysing the fibres and hairs they had found and what had popped up when comparing them to fibres and hairs on the victims. “…We could match hairs found on the bodies to your suspect, they are definitely his. As you should know the ME found other hairs on some of the women as well. The news is: we could match some of them – short dark ones, definitely male – to hairs found at your suspect’s hide-out.”

She continued her explanation while a low mumble spread in the room. “This means that you’re dealing with two murderers, not just one. We’re trying to get more information through DNA analysis and we’ll look for a match in every database. At this point the only thing I can tell you is that the man you’re looking for has short brown-black hair – the hairs we found are all between one and two inches long – and is Caucasian.”

After a few more minutes talking about the results of the analysis of the fibres Meg sat down and Sergeants Crowley and Singer took the floor again. They distributed new assignments and disbanded the meeting to question Alastair again.

Garth’s eyes were still fixed on the forensic scientist when the other policemen in the room stood up to start with their tasks.

Dean raised an eyebrow when he saw that the detective was woolgathering. “You gonna say hi or ask her out or something?”

“Hm, yeah, sure…” was the absentminded response he got.

Benny shook his head, grinning widely. “Someone’s not really present, huh?” When he nudged Garth he finally looked up at him.

“What?”

“Dean asked if you’re gonna ask her out.”

Garth stared from Benny to Dean and back. “No, I don’t think so. She doesn’t even know me.”

“Alright, buddy, then go over to her and say hi.” Dean shrugged. “You usually ain’t this hesitant so just do it.”

“You sure I should?”

“Yeah. Go get her, tiger.” He grinned when Garth finally walked over and smiled sheepishly down at Meg.

“Maybe he has more luck than you, Benny.” Smirking, he left the room, knowing his partner would follow him.

“Shut up, Winchester. And she never turned me down.”

“Whatever.” Dean and Benny were supposed to follow up this new lead by talking to the witness again before getting in contact with the ME to see if there might be any indications of two different killers murdering the latest victims. Dean called the witness. The girl said she’d be there in half an hour. 

“Let’s watch the interrogation till she comes,” Benny suggested.

Once again standing behind the one-way mirror they watched Alastair sit in the interrogation room in stubborn silence. When Singer told him they knew he didn’t commit the murders alone Dean watched him closely. For a spilt second something flashed in his eyes but he couldn’t say what it was.

“Did you see that?”

“Yep. We’re definitely right. He looks kinda amused, don’t you think?” Benny’s eyes didn’t leave the suspect.

He was right, the stir on the guy’s face looked like amusement.

“Wonder what’s so funny,” Dean growled.

When they left to meet the witness some time later the sergeants in the interrogation room were visibly impatient and Singer looked pissed as hell.

Questioning the girl who had seen one of the crimes was pointless. She didn’t have anything to add and no, it had been only one murderer. And it sure as hell was the guy they had in custody.

Dean and Benny thanked her and headed for the morgue. When they arrived at the ME’s office she was nowhere to be found. Benny shrugged and opened the door to the dissecting room, letting out the unpleasant smells of death, disinfectant and formaldehyde. 

“Hey, Tessa,” Dean greeted the ME that had her back turned to them and was leaning over a woman’s body.

“Hi. Perfect timing, guys.” She didn’t even look up as Dean and Benny joined her at the dissecting table. “After the forensic guys realised there has to be an accomplice I took another look. There’s nothing to indicate that this woman might have been killed by more than one person though. See those marks on her neck? That’s definitely only one pair of hands. Same goes for the other victims. Unfortunately I can’t tell if the others were choked by the same person because the marks are about the same size and the killer wore gloves. There aren’t any other abnormalities on this body except for her torn nails with which she apparently tried to pull away her murderer’s hands. The only thing that suggests that there were two people involved in her murder are those hairs. As you know none of the women were sexually assaulted so there’s nothing there as well. So basically I can’t tell you anything you don’t already know.”

Tessa’s gaze met the detectives’. “I suppose the forensic team is still trying to match the fibres found on the bodies to your suspect’s clothes?”

“Yeah, they’re not done yet,” Benny answered. “Do you have any idea how the other guy’s hair ended up on the victims?”

“Well, they were found on two of the bodies. So he might’ve participated in solely these two murders. Or maybe he was on every crime scene with the murderer but only watched most of the crimes. Another possibility is that he held on to the victims from behind to make it easier for his partner to choker them. Although if he did that there aren’t any marks on her body so he must’ve wrapped his arms around her. That seems like the most logical and likely scenario to me. Especially since we found fibres on the backs of their shirts that are used in fabrics for sweaters.”

“Alright, thanks.” The detectives left the morgue and drove back to the precinct, discussing the case in the car.

“I just don’t understand how or where they find their victims…” Benny mumbled. “We didn’t find any link at all and it has already been five weeks.”

“Yeah. Even if they take turns at choosing their victims there should be some kind of connection…”  
They spent the rest of the day going over everything in the victims’ lives again, trying to find that crucial connection but nothing came up. It was incredibly frustrating and demoralising. But at least there wasn’t another victim. Yet.

***

Totally exhausted Dean drove home at half past ten, trying to get his mind off the case. He wondered what had happened between Garth and Meg. Since Garth always pried into everyone’s affairs he thought about asking how it went the next day.

After he’d parked the car Dean searched his jeans pockets for his keys and nearly bumped into Cas who was about to enter the house as well.

“Ugh, sorry…” Dean mumbled, running a hand over his face.

“No problem. Are you alright?” Cas looked up at him with a worried expression on his face.

“Yeah, sure. Just tired as fuck…” Dean started walking up the stairs, his neighbour following right behind.

“Then I won’t hold you up. You really should get some sleep.”

“That’s the plan.” They arrived at Dean’s door. The detective turned around and nearly jumped. Cas’s face was only a few inches away from his. Dean swallowed and felt a blush creep over his face, he had no idea how to react. “Uh… Personal space, Cas. I… I’m not used to people being this close…” he finally managed to utter.

“Right. Sorry.” Castiel took a step back. “Anyway, I hope you have a good night’s sleep, you look like you need one.”

What the hell was that supposed to mean? Dean shook his head lightly, managed to produce a tired smile and turned to open his door.

“Good night” and the sound of footsteps were all he heard from Cas before he closed his door. Alright, that guy really was weird as hell. Why the fuck did he stand so close to him? And why the fuck had he blushed immediately? He really needed to pull himself together. With a sigh he undressed and climbed into bed.


	3. An Artist's Life

In the next two days nothing new came up. Every single cop was working feverishly because they all knew it could be only a matter of time until the other killer chose to murder another woman. Alastair remained silent so none of them knew if they had taken turns killing people and if the accomplice would commit murders alone. All they could do was to wait for the results of the DNA analysis and a possible match in one of the databases.

It was Friday when the results finally came in. Dean had totally forgotten to ask Garth what he and Meg had talked about, his mind had been busy with the case – and Cas.

Only when he saw the detective approaching him with a wide smile he remembered that Garth was supposed to keep up with the news from the forensic team. What a lucky coincidence. Of course he’d used the opportunity to talk to Meg in person. 

Unfortunately the hairs couldn’t be matched to anyone in the databases and didn’t provide any new information that could’ve been useful. But at least they could match them if they found another suspect. If.

“Hey, how was it?” Dean grinned at Garth.

“How was what?” The other detective played dumb.

“You know what I’m talking about. How’s it going with Meg?”

Garth shrugged. “She’s nice. Explained everything to me really patiently. Why?”

“Buddy, you’ve had a crush on her forever. Aren’t you planning on asking her out or something?”

“Who’s asking out whom?” Benny chimed in. 

“I don’t know. I might ask Meg. Maybe.”

“She didn’t snap at you or anything yet?” Benny looked taken aback.

“No, why would she?” Garth looked at him just as puzzled.

“She can be quite a bitch.”

Dean grinned. “Only to you, Benny. Bet you had it coming somehow.”

“Or maybe she just has a thing for clumsy, scatty, daydreaming cops,” he muttered.

Garth ignored Benny’s comment. 

Some of the other detectives didn’t get why on earth Garth had decided to become a cop because of his completely unusual character but Dean liked him and thought highly of him. They’d been partners a few years back and Garth was a great guy.

***

A few hours later Dean’s phone made a brief sound. He checked it and opened the text message he’d gotten.

‘Hello Dean, I wondered if you would like to keep me company this evening if you don’t have any other plans and make it home earlier from work. Please tell me if you have time. Cas’

Okay, even that guy’s text messages were weird. But… hadn’t he referred to his one night stands as ‘company’ too? Yeah, definitely. Did that mean he wanted… Nah, it probably just was his weird way of telling Dean he wanted to chat again and maybe drink a few beers. He really needed to stop overthinking everything. But it went with the job.

Dean hesitated for a moment. There wasn’t much he could do at the precinct since they basically still didn’t have any new leads. Of course the team was working 24/7 but it felt like they didn’t achieve anything at all. So why the hell not. He decided to give Cas a call.

His neighbour picked up after a few rings. “Hello?”

“Hi Cas, it’s Dean. Meeting up tonight sounds like a good idea, I could really use some distraction.”

“Great. You wanna go somewhere? Or maybe I could cook something.”

Dean grinned. “Better not, we don’t want you to burn down the house or something,” he teased. Talking to Cas wasn’t that hard when he didn’t have to be afraid of getting lost in the blue of his eyes.

“Right. Umm… We could order in.”

“That’s a great idea.”

“Do you like Chinese?”

“Yeah. I’ll get home at about half past eight if nothing happens at work.”

Dean could hear the smile in Cas’s voice. “Sounds good. Let’s say quarter to nine at my place?”

“Alright. See you then.” He hung up. It was highly unlikely that anything new would come up today so he could clock out earlier than usually without having a guilty conscience. And in case anything should happen – he really hoped it wouldn’t – the cops on duty would give him a call.

***

As Dean had anticipated the rest of the day proceeded without any incidents or new developments.

Shortly after eight he called it a day and took his leave. Back at home he took a quick shower, got dressed and went up the stairs to Cas’s flat where he was greeted by his neighbour.

Castiel’s living room was even more chaotic than the last time he’d been there. There were canvasses and papers, brushes and pens and even a few art books scattered over every horizontal surface but the sofa.

Dean took a closer look at the sheets of paper covering the desk.

“I got a new commission for a design. It’s not what I usually do but I liked the challenge,” Cas explained the chaos.

“It looks… interesting.” There really was no other way to describe it. Most of the sketches showed bloody, entwined and dramatically lit body parts or pale female corpses, half naked and lying on their back. Some of the pictures were just pencil sketches, others were canvas paintings with low-keyed colours and soft edges. If Dean weren’t used to dead bodies, the pictures would have at least had an unsettling effect on him.

Cas watched Dean’s reaction closely. “You don’t like it,” he noted.

“It’s just… weird, y’know, between all your children’s book illustrations. Death… doesn’t really fit in.”

“I guess you’re right. But I somehow like it.” Cas smiled embarrassedly.

Dean looked at him, raising a brow.

His neighbour shrugged. “I think death is really interesting to observe and I’m trying to depict it correctly which isn’t as easy as I thought. It’s been a while since I draw and painted naturalistically. That’s why I looked for inspiration and ways to convey the dark, lifeless atmosphere. Found my inspiration in European Romantic painters; especially Géricault is great at depicting death and despair and his ‘Raft of the Medusa’ is just…” He trailed off as he noticed the confused look Dean’s face. “You have no idea what I’m talking about. Sorry. I tend to start raving of artists and styles and so on and don’t even realise it. I’m probably boring you.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I just don’t know anything about art.” And the pictures really were weird as hell. The cop in Dean got wary. “Why do you paint corpses and body parts anyway?”

The ringing of the doorbell interrupted them.

“That’s probably our food. I ordered noodles with chicken and vegetables, hope you like it.” With that Cas left Dean in his living room to open the door.

Dean looked around, eyeing the finished canvas paintings he found all over the room more closely. Most of them showed more or less the same subject, a dead woman in a ripped dress, the only remarkable difference were the colours: One of the pictures was painted exclusively in reddish colours, giving it a hellish undertone, another one portrayed the body in grey and a sick-looking green and yellow, for a third one Cas had used solely shades of brown and so on. Dean had a strange feeling but he couldn’t really put his finger on it. Somehow the bodies in the paintings reminded him of something.

The detective had just spotted another interesting sketch when Cas returned to the living room with the food. “You draw tattoo designs as well?”

“Yes, every now and then. I like the endless possibilities and countless art styles.” He carefully started dragging papers and painting utensils into piles with one hand before setting the food on the end table. “Do you use chopsticks or a fork?”

“Chopsticks.” Dean smiled when Cas handed him a pair of chopsticks before getting a fork for himself from the kitchen.

“I just can’t eat with those.” He shrugged and grinned, sitting down on the sofa next to Dean.

They sat in silence for a few moments while they started to eat and Dean noticed Cas was shoving noodles and meat in his mouth the same way he did. He smirked when Cas looked up at him, a few long noodles still hanging out of his mouth as he chewed.

“So why exactly are you painting lots of dead bodies or parts of them?” Dean asked after he’d finished eating. He wouldn’t let it go just like that.

“They’re cover designs for a book,” Cas responded. “I barely do that but I liked the topic and the suggestions of the author so I gave it a shot.”

“Guess it’s a thriller, huh?”

“Yeah. And a pretty good one. I read it in a couple of hours.”

“What’s it about?” Dean was curious. The kind of designs Castiel had drawn were something he’d never seen on a book cover. Not that he read much or spent his time in bookstores…

“Sorry, can’t tell. The author made me promise not to blab anything. He’s a little weird about that but I respect his wishes.”

“Alright… Did you always want to become an artist?”

“What is this? An interrogation?” Cas grinned.

“Sorry, I’m just a little nosy. Goes with the job and I can’t stop it I guess.” By now Dean felt way more comfortable talking to Cas. Sure, he still was a little nervous when their eyes met for more than a few seconds but it was nice to chat with him about something that had nothing to do with his own work.

A sheepish smile appeared on Cas’s face. “Actually I wanted to become a tattooist before I started illustrating books. But I wasn’t good enough with the needle.”

“A tattooist? Really?”

“Yes. You seem surprised.”

“Yeah, I just can’t picture you as one.” Dean shrugged.

“Well, I always loved tattoos. It’s art on one’s body, I think that’s great.”

“So that’s the reason why you draw tattoo designs? Do you have any yourself?” Now Dean was really curious. He wondered how an artist’s tattoos would look like.

“Yes, as I said I like the multiple different art styles. And yes, I do indeed have some tattoos myself.”

Luckily – or unfortunately, Dean wasn’t really sure which was more adequate – his phone started ringing and stopped him from doing something incredibly stupid like asking if he could see Cas’s tattoos. God, he really had to pull himself together. He grabbed his mobile to see that Benny was calling.

“Sorry, gotta take that.” He stood up and walked into the small hallway of Cas’s flat to answer the call. “What’s up?”

“Dean, you need to come over ASAP. We have another body. I’ll text you the address.”


	4. New habits and nasty kinks

Fuck. After he’d hung up, Dean returned to the living room. “I’m sorry, I have to go. There’s been another murder. But thanks for the nice evening.” He managed a lopsided smile.

“No problem, really. Your job is way more important. Thank you for joining me.” Cas smiled back when he saw Dean to the door. “We could do that again if you want.” There was a small, strange undertone in his voice that Dean couldn’t pinpoint.

“Sure. Have a good night.” He hurried down the stairs to his car.

***

It took him nearly an hour to get to the crime scene at the other end of the city. The detective parked the Impala between patrol cars and the coroner’s vehicle.

“Where the hell have you been?” Crowley snarled when he laid his eyes on him.

“At home, Sir. I drove here as fast as possible.”

“Fine. Now get your ass over to Lafitte!” Damn, his superior really was in a terrible mood. Although it was understandable.

Benny filled him in on everything they knew so far. “White female, probably mid-twenties to early thirties, strangled to death with bare hands. Tessa says she probably was killed about 24 hours ago. We’re not sure if it’s Alastair’s accomplice though.”

Dean looked at him with irritation. “Why not? Age and sex match.” That was the only thing the victims had in common: All of them were female and between 16 and 34. The similarities ended there. One of the women was black, two Hispanic, one Asian and the corpse they were approaching now was the second white victim. All came from different backgrounds and different parts of the city, knew different people and had different hobbies and jobs.

“Because of that.” Benny pointed at the body that lay on the side, the limbs twisted in unnatural ways, dark blond hair covering the face. “Her right foot and left forearm are missing.”

“What?” Dean stared from Benny to the body and back. His partner was right. “Why the hell would he change his MO?”

“Maybe because Alastair isn’t holding him back anymore? Given that it’s the same perp.”

Tessa joined them, a halogen spotlight in hand. “Can’t see shit out here…” she mumbled as she squatted down next to the corpse and turned on the light.

“Who found the body?”

“Guy walking his dog, found her about two hours ago after his pet nearly went nuts.”

Dean noticed Tessa moving closer to the body to check something out. “The foot and arm were practically sawed off. Definitely post mortem. Look at that…” She’d moved on to the collar of the victim’s shirt. Taking a small evidence bag out of her pocket she picked up a short dark hair. “Guess we’ll know if it’s the same killer soon.”

“Well, that’s something.” Dean looked around. They were standing in an in an industrial park and not a single civilian was to be seen. “I take it there aren’t any neighbours that could be witnesses?”

“Nope. Next dwelling house is about six blocks away. And at this time no one working in the surrounding buildings is here. If we’re unlucky we gotta wait till Monday to interview everyone.”

“Peachy…”

The ME finished her examination. “I’ll take a closer look at her once we brought her to the morgue. The autopsy will be tomorrow morning at ten,” she told Sergeant Singer who stood behind her.

“Thank you, Doctor.” The sergeant turned to Dean and Benny. “We need to ID her. I want you to go back to the precinct and check every missing persons file from the last four days. Better make sure we don’t miss anything.”

“Sure.” Benny turned to go but Dean didn’t move.

“Dammit, Bobby, I really hope we get this son of a bitch soon…” he murmured.

“Me too, boy, me too.” Bobby had been his supervisor when Dean had started working homicide and he was like a father to him. The detective could see the worry in his superior’s face. Six dead women in five weeks were anything but normal. They really had to catch that guy. “Now go do your job.” A weak smile lit Bobby’s bearded face.

***

Approximately eight cups of coffee later – the sun had already come up – they had a name. Becky Rosen. Her parents had called and reported her missing 20 minutes ago after she hadn’t come home for the second night. The picture they had sent confirmed their worst fears. Of course they would have to identify their daughter so Benny called Tessa to let her know that the parents would come to see the body before she started the autopsy.

Meanwhile Dean tried to get as much information as possible over the phone. He knew this wasn’t the best way to talk to the next of kin of a murder victim but time was of the essence.

He learned that Becky had wanted to go to a café two days ago, that was the last thing her parents knew. Dean decided to go there and interview the people to find out if that could’ve been the place where she went missing.

After telling Benny he’d purse this lead – his partner would meet the victim’s parents and be present at the identification – he left the building and headed south.

***

The café was a nice, small place. It was only a few minutes’ walk away from the spot where the corpse had been found. Dean talked to the waitress that stated she’d seen Becky two days ago. She had been alone and had left around seven p.m. but she couldn’t say whether she’d met with anyone. The other employees didn’t remember anything else. Dean was about to leave when the door opened and a familiar figure stepped inside.

“Cas? What’re you doing here?”

Cas looked up, a surprised expression on his face. “Hello, Dean. I didn’t expect to see you that soon again. I’m here regularly. But why are you here?”

“I’m investigating a lead. What do you mean you’re here regularly? Your flat is approximately a 45 minutes’ drive from here.”

Cas shrugged. “I like it here. Nice place, nice people and really great pie. You should try it when you’re here anyway.”

Dean knew he was on duty but on the other hand he hadn’t eaten anything since… actually since he’d had dinner with Cas.

“Alright.” Dean sat down and Cas took the seat on the other side of the table. They ordered pie and coffee and waited.

“How do you know this place?”

“I used to live in this neighbourhood for a while.”

“So you know this area well?”

“Yeah, I guess. You gonna tell me why you’re asking all these questions?”

Dean licked his lower lip as he stared at Cas, ignoring the waitress that brought the pie and filled their coffee mugs. He pulled the photo of the dead woman out of his pocket and showed it to Castiel. “Two nights ago this woman was killed. Do you know her?”

The cop in him immediately got suspicious when he noticed the flicker in Cas’s eyes. It was only there for a split second but Dean perceived the change in his face that came with the odd look in his neighbour’s eyes.

“No,” Cas said after a few seconds.

“Cas.”

“I don’t know this woman.” His voice was steady as he glanced up to meet the mistrustful look in Dean’s green eyes.

“If you know anything –“ Dean was cut off by the ringing of Cas’s phone.

The dark-haired man checked the screen. “I have to take this call. Excuse me.” He got up and stepped outside.

Dean watched him for a couple of moments before he decided he really needed to eat, his stomach had already started to growl. 

There was something going on with his neighbour; he had to find out what it was. Dark hair with the right length, interested in murder and death, drawing bodies and chopped extremities… Nah, that couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible. Or maybe it is and you just don’t want to see it because you have a thing for him and can’t judge objectively, a small voice in the back of his mind whispered.

While Cas was talking on the phone and paced back and forth the detective dug in and thought about the case. He had nearly finished the pie – which really was great – when Cas returned.

“I have to go. There is something important I have to take care of.” Without waiting for a response he left the café.

Dean got up hastily, nearly knocking down his chair in the process, hurried to the door and out of the café. “Cas!”

Castiel was nowhere to be seen. “Dammit!” He had to talk to him; he was sure Cas had recognised the woman on the photo and might know something else.

After going back inside to pay he walked to the Impala while calling Cas on his phone. Of course he didn’t answer. Dean cursed. He’d have to talk to him in the evening when he got home.

***

The autopsy hadn’t revealed anything extraordinary. Except for the missing extremities the murder had been committed exactly like the other five. Now everyone was waiting impatiently for the analysis of the hair the ME had found.

The next couple of hours passed by without any news or information. It was nearly six p.m. when the detectives sitting on their desks reading files and comparing everything they knew about the victims to find a link heard turmoil in the hallway. Benny, Dean and Garth looked at each other and simultaneously got to their feet.

“What the hell’s going on?” Benny asked the first cop they passed.

“The forensic guys just came over. The evidence is gone.”

“What?” Even Garth looked genuinely shocked.

They hurried towards the conference room where all hell had broken loose. Detectives, officers, the two sergeants and a few of the forensic scientists where discussing wildly. Bobby finally managed to quiet everyone down enough to be heard.

“Listen, guys. Apparently someone broke into the forensic lab and stole the hairs and fibres we found on the victims. All of them. The ones the coroner found last night hadn’t even been sent away for analysis. Means we have no forensic evidence left at all. We’re still trying to figure out how the perp or perps managed to get inside. We believe they…”

He was cut off by a female voice. “Sorry we’re late.”

Everyone in the room turned around to look at Charlie Bradbury and Ash who rushed in. They were the IT geniuses working for the precinct. 

“We got ‘em,” Charlie announced.

“Well, technically not them but we know how and when they got in,” Ash added.

When they finally stood at the front of the room they had everyone’s undivided attention.

“At 11.51 a.m. someone managed to hack into the system without anyone noticing it. They disabled the CCTV, unlocked the doors and turned off the alarm…” Charlie continued to explain what exactly had happened but Dean didn’t listen anymore.

11.51. Nearly two hours after Cas had left hastily after a call to ‘take care of something important’. That would have been enough time for him to go to the flat, get a laptop and drive to the police station. If it was him. Dean’s doubts lessened with every new detail that popped up. Of course he didn’t know if Castiel was even able to hack into anything but he would find out.

Without a word he left the room and tried to call Cas again. He still didn’t pick up. Now Dean had only one option: he’d have to see if his neighbour was home.

“Hey, where’re you going?” Benny had caught up with him and looked at him with irritation.

“I gotta check something out. I’ll call you later, okay? Gotta do this one alone.”

He reached the parking lot, got into the Impala and drove back to the house he and Cas both lived in. After opening the front door he took two steps at a time. He reached Cas’s flat and knocked loudly and impatiently.

“Cas! Open up! I need to talk to you!” He heard nothing but silence. “Dammit, Cas, open the fucking door!”

Finally there was the faint sound of footsteps coming closer, the door opened and a very confused Cas looked up at him. “Dean? What’s wrong?”

“We need to talk.” The detective stepped inside.


	5. New developments

“Are you telling me what’s going on?” Cas stared at Dean perplexedly, following him into the living room.

“I have a few questions. I wanted to ask you here rather than at the station.” Dean looked around and gestured for Cas to sit down.

“Wait a second. Am I a suspect in your murder investigation or something like that?”

“Let’s say you could be a witness.” He had found what he’d been looking for. Picking up a few of Cas’s sketches he said, “Sit down. Please.”

Cas complied and settled on one end of the sofa, eyeing Dean carefully.

“Can you tell me where you got the inspiration for those pictures?” It were quite detailed sketches and studies of female bodies and faces.

Cas glanced at them briefly before looking up to Dean. “The postures are mostly from Géricault’s artwork and art books.”

“And the faces? They are pretty detailed and specific.”

“My client showed me a few photos. Dean, what exactly are you doing here? Why are you questioning me?”

The detective sighed. “Listen, there are some weird… coincidences regarding the case and you. So please tell me everything you know about that client.”

“Coincidences?” Cas didn’t understand.

“Just answer my questions, okay?”

“Fine. He writes under the pen name Carver Edlund but his real name is Chuck Shurley. He writes thrillers which are based on actual events. That’s why he doesn’t want me to talk about his latest book. It’s a work in progress but…” he hesitated for a moment, then got up. “I have a manuscript. It has to be here somewhere…” He shuffled a few papers and finally found it under the desk, lying on the ground.

“Here. It doesn’t have a title yet and is unedited and unfinished but pretty good.”

“What can you tell me about it? You said you read it.”

While Cas told him about the plot, the main characters and the brutal, gruesome murders, Dean’s expression got darker and darker. Now and then he interrupted to ask a few questions but it was clear to him: the thriller was portrayed the case he and his team were working on. They either had a leak in the precinct or Shurley was their murderer.

“Do you know how it will end?”

“No.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it before? You know I’m a homicide detective. Didn’t anything catch your eye?”

The confused look Cas gave him spoke volumes. “What should have caught my eye?”

“There is a serial killer on the loose that murders women the exact same way. The women in the pictures your client showed you and which you painted.”

“A serial killer? I didn’t know that.”

Dean was dumbfounded. “You… you didn’t know that? It’s been all over the news for over a month.”

“I don’t watch the news and I barely read newspapers so no, I didn’t know that.” Cas looked honestly shocked. Dean believed him.

“Well that’s just peachy…” Dean grumbled. “I need you to give me Shurley’s address and phone number.”

“Sure. I’ll look for them.” He got up again and searched in one of the drawers of his desk.

Dean grabbed his phone and dialled a number.

“Dammit, boy, where the hell are you?” Bobby didn’t waste any time with a greeting.

“I need to talk to you. In person. Can you come over to my flat? Tell the others something happened to my brother or whatever, just something inconspicuous. Call me when you’re here, okay?”

Bobby heard the urgency in Dean’s voice and didn’t ask. He knew his detective well enough not to question him when he said something like that. “I’ll be right there.”

Dean ended the call and looked over to Cas who was still searching for Shurley’s contact information. Bobby was the only person he trusted implicitly.

“So you think Chuck’s the killer?” Cas asked, going through dozens of notes and papers.

“I don’t know. We’ll have to talk to him.” Dean sat down on the sofa again.

A few seconds later Cas joined him, handing him a piece of paper. “Here. That’s Chuck’s address and number. Can I ask you something?”

Dean took the note and before his gaze met Cas’s warily. “Sure. But you know I can’t discuss the case with you.”

“Of course. Do you think I’m a suspect? You certainly did when you showed up here. I could give you a DNA sample to match it with your evidence. You found hairs, right?”

“We’ll have to check everything you told us. Usually I would’ve already asked you for a sample but… some complications occurred…”

“Complications?” Cas raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry, can’t talk about it.” Dean’s phone rang. Bobby had arrived. The detective told him where he was and a couple of moments later the doorbell rang.

Dean went to open it.

“You gonna tell me what this is about, boy? Cause this sure as hell ain’t your flat.”

“Come on in. Bobby, this is Cas, my neighbour. Cas, this is Sergeant Bobby Singer.”

The two men shook hands before going into the living room. Dean shortly outlined everything Cas had told him while Bobby listened patiently. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Alright, we gotta go interview this Shurley. Now.” He got up. “You comin’?”

“Sure. Thanks for your help, Cas. Don’t leave the city without noticing me, okay? Guess you know the procedure.” Dean grabbed the manuscript and stood up as well.

“Of course. If there’s anything else I can help you with just give me a call. Anything.” Cas smiled up at Dean and led them to the door. “I hope you find that guy soon.”

“Me too…” Bobby growled. They immediately drove to the address Cas had given them.

While they were riding in Bobby’s car Dean skimmed through the manuscript, noticing details that had never been published. He also searched the internet for Shurley’s already published books.

“You think that guy would start writing about murders he committed himself?”

“I doubt it. But you never know, do ya?”

Half an hour later they knocked on a door. They had decided to interrogate Shurley in his home if he agreed. Everything else would be handled the way protocol prescribed but they didn’t want to risk him talking to his tipster in the precinct. After a few moments the door was opened a bit and a brown-haired man looked up at them.

“Chuck Shurley?”

“Yes. Who wants to know?”

“Police.”

Shurley just sighed. “Listen, I don’t…”

Bobby interrupted him. “Sir, can we come in?”

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“As soon as you let us in.”

“Fine.” He opened the door and stepped aside, then led the way to the living room. It was nearly as chaotic as Cas’s, Dean noticed. Maybe that was typical for creative people.

After explaining the reason for their visit Dean put a small recorder on the table, stated time, date, location and the names of the attendants. “Sir, do you declare your agreement to be questioned?”

“Yes.” Shurley looked nervous.

“Do you want a lawyer?”

“I… No, I don’t need one.”

Now Bobby took over. “Mr Shurley, you are currently writing a book about murders that take place in this city. Is that correct?”

“Yes. How do you know that?” He seemed more and more uncomfortable.

“I am the one asking questions. Why do you write about those murders?”

“People like thrillers that are based on true events. They love it when the gruesome things they’re reading about have really happened.”

“How do you know that much about those murders?”

“I read the newspapers, talk to journalists, the usual.” 

Dean noticed the lie right away and so did Bobby. “That’s interesting because you mention details we never released. So, again. How do you know that much?”

Shurley swallowed before clearing his throat. “Okay... I have this… informant. I assume he works for the police.”

“Who is he?” Instinctively the two policemen leaned a little closer.

“I don’t know. He sends me e-mails with information.”

“What does he want in return?”

“Nothing.” Shurley noticed their mistrust immediately. “I swear he doesn’t want anything. Never mentioned getting anything for his information. I was surprised too, believe me.”

“Can we see those mails?”

“Sure.” He walked over to the desk and opened his laptop to boot it up.

“You think he’s our guy?” Dean mumbled.

“Not sure. After we’re done here we’ll bring him to one of the other police stations. For the city’s or his safety.”

“Here,” Shurley said a moment later.

Bobby and Dean stepped closer, making sure there was nothing Shurley could use as weapon.

In that moment Bobby’s phone started ringing. “Excuse me.” He left the room to answer the call.

Dean took a look at Shurley’s e-mails. There were at least a dozen from someone with the name “Cerberus” describing the crimes, some of them even including pictures of the victims and crime scenes.

“Son of a bitch…” Dean murmured as he read the mails.

“I need to talk to you.” Bobby stood right behind him. “Don’t go anywhere,” he said to Shurley.

They stepped into the hallway. “That was Masters. Before I drove to your flat I told her, Charlie and Ash to call me and nobody else if they had anything new. The guys from forensics searched everything again and actually found something. The burglar must’ve overlooked or lost two small evidence bags, they had slipped between the counters. One of them contains one of the accomplice’s hairs.”

Dean stared at him. “You sure? Damn, Bobby, that’s great!”

“Yeah. What about those mails?” The sergeant walked back into the messy living room.

“Definitely someone inside the precinct.”

“Alright. Let’s take him and his laptop to the station. Tell Charlie to meet us there and let Ash know he shall try to get anything else on the break-in.”

Dean made the calls while Bobby told Shurley what would happen next. The writer agreed to come to the police station.

Shortly after they’d hit the road Bobby’s cell phone rang again. “Singer?” He listened for a while before saying, “Did you tell anyone yet? … Good. Keep it to yourself. And send Charlie the link. Good job.”

Dean looked at him quizzically.

“Garth found a link between Becky Rosen and one of the other victims. They were both regulars on some kind of fan and roleplay website.”

“Seriously?”

Bobby just shrugged. “I’m glad we finally got something. We’re gonna get this guy.”

“Yeah, hopefully. But first we need to find the snitch,” Dean mumbled while they drove on the station’s parking lot.

Charlie was already waiting for them when they entered a small interrogation room.

“Anybody gonna explain why we aren’t at our precinct?”

“I’ll fill you in later,” Dean promised. “First we need you to trace some e-mails. Did you get Garth’s mail?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem. And yeah, I did.” Charlie immediately started working.

Some time later she looked up at the policemen that were pacing the room. “Got him. Well, kinda. He’s good, really. Used several ways to hide his IP addresses. But I’m better. The mails were sent from various different IP addresses. What do you want me to do now?”

“See if you can get the IP addresses of the people visiting that website.” Bobby was looking over her shoulder.

“That might take a while. There’s hundreds of them. Might need some help.”

“I’m gonna call Ash.”

***

Two hours later Charlie and Ash were done. They could match the website’s visitors’ IP addresses with all of the victims’ ones – some of them obviously had made a secret of their hobby judging by the fact they’d hidden their IP addresses and deleted their internet history, the reason why the police hadn’t found the connection earlier.

“Cerberus” had visited the website regularly as well. Everyone was sure he was their killer. It had taken Charlie and Ash a while but they had finally been able to locate the IP addresses he had used. None of them matched any of the policemen working the case. Of course not. Now they were left with eight different locations. 

Charlie and Ash had turned back to figuring out how the intruder had crippled the system earlier that day. The redhead suddenly uttered a victorious sound. Immediately everyone gathered behind her.

“I checked every CCTV near the precinct and got something. This man passed several surveillance cameras before arriving at the station twelve minutes before the hack and passed this one three blocks away 48 minutes later. This is the only good shot we have of him.” She zoomed in on the guy in black pants and a dark hoodie.

“Son of a bitch…” Dean murmured while Bobby started swearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a pain in the ass to write because I know nothing about technology so sorry about any mistakes I might've made.


	6. Unexpected turns

“Guess you got your leak right there.” Charlie looked up at Bobby.

“Fuck! Why the hell would he do something like that? Breaking into the forensic lab and…” Dean stared at his superior bewilderedly. “You think he’s our killer?”

“Only one way to find out. Dean, go get your neighbour and bring him to the precinct. I’m going there with Shurley. We’re getting a DNA sample from everyone who knows something. We’ll meet there and talk everything through before doing anything else.”

“Got it.” Dean grabbed his jacket and left the station. He started the car and called Cas when he was only two minutes away from home. “Cas, you still at your flat?”

“Yes, why?”

“Are you still willing to give us a DNA sample?”

“Of course. I told you, anything you need.” Dean heard the small overtone in Cas’s voice.

“Good. I’ll be right there.” He disconnected and pulled up in the driveway.

A few moments later he knocked on his neighbour’s door which was opened immediately.

“Is everything alright?” Cas looked concerned when he saw Dean’s face.

“Not really. Do you agree to come to the precinct with me? We’ll take that sample there and I have a few more questions for you.”

“Sure, no problem. Let me just get my coat.” Cas went to the bedroom and returned with a beige trench coat. “Let’s go.”

“I take it that you found Chuck and talked to him?” He asked after a few minutes of silence in the car.

“Yes.”

“Why do you suddenly want my DNA? You said you wouldn’t need it.”

“There have been a few new developments and we’ll match the DNA of everyone involved with this case.”

Cas squinted at Dean who stared out the windshield. “You think I’m involved?”

“Cas, you’re the reason why we found Shurley and finally got a break in this case. So yes, you are involved.”

“Does that mean you have a suspect?”

Dean glanced over to Cas before concentrating on the road again. “I can’t discuss the case with you, sorry.”

“I understand.” Cas fell silent again.

A short time later Dean parked the Impala in front of the precinct and brought Cas into an interrogation room. “Wait here,” he told him. “I’ll be right back.”

He found Bobby in the conference room with Benny. Garth was talking to Meg, a happy smile on his face. Good. Bobby had already prepared everything.

“Did you already get a sample from Shurley?”

“Yeah. After you got your neighbour’s DNA we can start.” The sergeant had a grim expression on his face.

“Sure. Meg, you comin’?”

The forensic scientist crossed the distance between them and followed him to the interrogation room.

Cas was waiting patiently and immediately complied when Meg asked him to open his mouth. She got a swab and left.

“Okay, listen. I need to talk to someone first and it might take a while. Do you want a coffee or something?”

“No, I’m good. Thank you.” Cas smiled up at Dean.

“’kay. I’ll be back as soon as possible.” He left to join Bobby again.

“Alright, boy. Let’s go get Crowley. You ready?”

“Guess so. I still can’t believe it.” 

“I get that, believe me. It’s gonna be hard. But hopefully we’ll find out who the murderer really is. Getting “Cerberus” is an important step but who knows if he can tell us who the killer is… He might not know it.” The two of them reached Crowley’s small office and Bobby knocked.

“Yes?” The sergeant was still there. Working a case like this demanded long hours from everyone so it was no surprise to find Crowley in his office at half past eleven.

“Crowley, we need you in an interrogation.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “You got a suspect? Why the hell didn’t anybody tell me?”

“Just got another lead a few hours ago.”

“A few hours ago? And you didn’t have time to call me?” 

“We were busy. You coming now?” Bobby answered back.

“Fine…” Crowley was obviously pissed when they headed for one of the interview rooms.

Bobby opened the door and the policemen entered.

Crowley immediately spun around when he realised the room was empty. “Where the hell is your suspect?”

“Sit down,” Bobby ordered harshly.

“Singer, what’s going on?” the other sergeant demanded to know.

“I told you to sit down and I ain’t gonna say it again,” Bobby growled, his voice dangerously quiet.

“Is this a joke?” Crowley slowly sat down.

“Believe me, it isn’t.” Bobby settled on the chair on the other side of the table, Dean leaned against the wall, his eyes not leaving Crowley.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on?”

“Sure. This is you, right?” Bobby slid a print of the CCTV’s freeze frame over the table so that his colleague could look at it.

Crowley immediately went quiet. He was a good cop – well, at least he used to be – but for the trained eye he wasn’t hard to read.

“You gonna tell us what you did near the forensic lab shortly before their system got hacked and why this camera caught you about 45 minutes later?” 

Crowley didn’t utter a word, he just stared at the picture stoically.

“We know about “Cerberus”. That you too?”

Dean noticed Crowley clenching his teeth. Bingo.

“I just don’t get why you’d to that. You’re a good cop. We worked together for what now? 20 years?” Bobby leaned closer, trying to get a reaction from the sergeant.

He looked up. “I want a lawyer.”

“Fine.” Bobby got up and opened the door. “We need a DNA sample from you. You gonna give it voluntarily or do we have to get a judge to sign a warrant?”

Dean saw that Crowley had realised he was fucked. His superior was still clenching his teeth but he looked like he surrendered. “Get Masters in here and let her do her job,” he snarled.

Bobby and Dean left the interrogation room. The sergeant instructed Benny not to let Crowley out of his sight much less out of the room. After Meg had taken another sample she immediately went back to the lab.

One after the other they fetched Cas and Shurley to ask them if they’d ever seen Crowley before. Both negated after watching the sergeant through the one-way mirror.

“Alright, gentlemen, you’re free to go for now. But stay available.” Bobby looked incredibly tired. “Let’s report to the Chief…” Another unpleasant thing they hadn’t done yet. A policeman being an informant in an ongoing investigation was always hard to deal with for the whole team. But there was nothing else they could do while waiting for Crowley’s attorney and the DNA results.

***

Tired as hell Dean got home shortly after three a.m. Bobby had sent him home to get some sleep because they didn’t get a single thing from Crowley who would remain in custody.

Dean had just taken off his jacket and shirt when a knock on the door startled him. Wearily he walked to the door and opened it to find Cas looking up at him.

“Hey. I know it’s late but I was still up so I thought I’d just come by to give you this.” Cas handed him a sandwich. “I guessed you didn’t eat anything and… Alright, honestly, this idea seemed way better an hour ago. I should probably…”

For the first time in the past few days Dean’s face was lit by a smile. “No, it’s fine. Actually it’s great. You’re right, I haven’t eaten since… I don’t even remember since when. Thanks, Cas, really. Um… you wanna come in?” He really needed some sleep, he actually had no idea when he’d slept the last time as well – it must have been more than 48 hours ago – but right now he noticed he was incredibly hungry.

“If you don’t mind me…”

“Not at all. Please.” He didn’t have to get back to work before ten after all that happened in the last two days so he might as well have some company while eating.

Cas went to the living room and took a seat on the sofa.

Dean stopped in the door. “You want anything to drink?”

“No thanks, I’m good.”

Dean settled in the armchair across from him and unwrapped the sandwich. “How’d you know when I’d be home?” He took a bite and sighed happily.

“I heard you come in. I noticed that the house is quite badly soundproofed…” A light blush crept over Cas’s face. Dean was sure they both where thinking the same.

Dean swallowed before speaking. “Yeah, I guess it is.” He shrugged. “I have to thank you by the way. Without you we wouldn’t have learned that there’s a snitch in our team.”

“So you don’t think that I’m a killer anymore?”

“No. Sorry about that. I know I just had circumstantial evidence and I shouldn’t have been such an ass.”

“It’s okay, you were only doing your job. But I know how you can make it up to me.” Cas smiled.

“How?” Dean looked at Cas with raised eyebrows, sandwich still in hand but completely forgotten.

“When this case is closed you could go out with me.”

For a second Dean thought he had misheard it but the slightly embarrassed smile on Cas’s face and his expectant expression left no doubt. He really meant it.

“Um, sure…” the detective answered perplexedly. That was definitely not what he’d expected.

Cas’s look got a little disappointed. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Honestly, I’m kinda awkward at dates and haven’t had one in years because I never meet people that I’m really interested in… I mean… Um, you know, just forget I asked…” he babbled, visibly embarrassed about his confession.

“No, Cas, I’d like that. Really.” Dean smiled at his neighbour reassuringly. “We could do something you feel comfortable with. Just suggest something and we’ll do it.”

“Great. I’ll think about it and let you know, okay?”

“Sure. But I don’t know how long it’ll take to close this case…”

“That doesn’t matter. I, um, I think I’ll leave you alone now so that you can get some sleep.” Cas got up.

“Yeah, sleep’s good. And thanks. For everything.” The detective followed Cas in the hallway and opened the door for him. “Night, Cas.”

“Good night.” Dean saw that Cas was still smiling when he walked up the stairs.

He returned to his living room and finished the sandwich before getting ready for bed. He had a date. With his neighbour. Well, that was definitely an unexpected turn. Alright, Winchester, time to get some sleep.


	7. Old colleagues and first dates

Of course, even with such an important case like this it took the crime lab a few days to analyse the DNA samples and get a result. It was Thursday afternoon when they finally came back.

In the meantime nothing new had happened. Crowley wasn’t talking, the same applied to Alastair. The sergeant was in custody because of flight risk; no one knew why he’d shared information. Neither Shurley nor Cas had anything to add. But at least there hadn’t been another body as well.

The search of the places Charlie and Ash had been able to find by locating the IP addresses hadn’t revealed anything as well. Most of them had been cyber cafes and no one remembered seeing guy with short dark hair that had sent the mails to Shurley.

Now Bobby had called the team together for a meeting. Everyone involved in the case was in the conference room, including the forensic scientists and IT technicians.

The atmosphere in the room was tense as the sergeant walked in. Everyone immediately knew something was really wrong, no one had ever seen Bobby that furious. 

“Listen up, we got bad news. Really bad news. The feds are gonna take over the case.”

Incredulous voices filled the room, a few “What?”, “Why?” and “What the fuck?”s clearly distinguishable.

Bobby had to raise his voice to be heard. “There’s something good though. We got our second killer. The lab was able to match the hair found on one of the victims that was overlooked in the break-in to the DNA of one of our suspects.” He hesitated and took a deep breath. “The second murderer we were looking for is Sergeant Fergus MacLeod.”

Immediately the whole room went silent, outraged faces staring up at Bobby.

“I guess that’s his motive for telling that writer all the information. He got uncareful and wanted to show off with the murders even though no one knew it was him. That’s also why he broke into the lab. Leaving hairs on the bodies was the only other mistake he made. If that hadn’t happened, we’d never have been able to connect him to the crimes. Of course the feds are gonna have to reinvestigate everything cause who knows if he faked evidence or something like that.”

That was something no one would ever have expected. One of their own, a colleague that had worked with them for many years, a snitch AND killer… Every cop was clearly shocked.

“The feds are gonna come tomorrow morning,” Bobby went on. “I expect every single one of you to help them as much as you can.”

Approving murmur filled the conference room. 

“In the meantime we will search Crowley’s flat and I want someone to question the people in the cyber cafes etc. again to find out if they remember seeing Crowley. We need more evidence. Remember, the feds take the lead but we will work alongside them. They will check everything we have been working on up to this point but we’ll keep investigating.” 

Great. No one wanted the FBI to look over their shoulder. The next days – or rather weeks – would be anything but fun.

A few minutes later the policemen all left the room to fulfil their tasks. None of them could believe that the murderer had worked amongst them. It made everything even more frustrating. The media would be all over this story.

***

Working with FBI agents sure as hell wasn’t the greatest thing any of them had ever experienced but it was bearable. In the next two weeks the feds reinvestigated the whole case while the cops were able to locate Crowley’s hide out where they found photos of the victims, plans of their hobbies, work schedules and daily tasks, the missing extremities and other gruesome “keepsakes”.

Knowing that Crowley had been arrested for murder and that this was his last chance for any kind of deal Alastair finally gave away some information and after a couple hours of interrogation they had a confession. Crowley still refused to say anything but the prosecutor had enough to make a case against the two men.

Dean hadn’t seen his neighbour since Cas had asked him for a date. But that was hardly surprising since he had had to work till late at night for the last weeks. 

He was all the more surprised when he got a text from Cas asking him to call him when he had a little time. The detective went into the break room to give him a call.

“Hey Cas, what’s up?”

“Hello Dean. It’s nice to hear from you. I was thinking about your offer to do something I’m comfortable with and thought I’d tell you what came to my mind.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“I thought we could go to an art museum. Only if you want to of course. You probably think it’s boring but that’s the only thing I could come up with so...”

Dean smiled. “No, Cas, I’m sure it’ll be fun. You can explain everything to me and show me which paintings you like most. It’s a great idea.”

He could hear the relief in Cas’s voice. “Great. Do you know when you might have some free time?”

“What about this Saturday? I can take a day off, we’re pretty much done with the case.”

“That sounds really good. We could meet at eleven a.m. and go to the museum and maybe eat something after that.”

“Sure. I’ll see you then, Cas.”

“Goodbye, Dean.” Cas hung up.

“Now you got a date.”

Dean spun around. “Dammit, Garth! I swear someday I’ll get a heart attack because of you!”

Garth smiled. “Sorry bout that. Who’s the lucky one?”

“I’ll tell ya when you ask Meg out,” Dean growled.

“Already did.”

“What? Really? What’d she say?”

“Yeah, really.” The detective grinned and blushed a little. “She said yes. So, who do you got a date with?”

“A guy you don’t know. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“What’s Cas short for?”

“Why do you always have to know everything? Seriously, you’re the most curious guy I know.”

“I’m a cop. Just like you. You ain’t any better. So?”

Dean sighed. “It’s short for Castiel. Now stop bugging me about him.”

“Fine. Hope you have fun.” Garth left with a wide grin.

***

Saturday morning felt like torture. Dean had tried to sleep long but was too nervous and had finally given up at eight a.m. He’d had breakfast before taking a shower and was now trying to figure out what to wear. It was nearly eleven when he finally decided to just dress like he always did: Jeans, boots, a plaid shirt over a t-shirt and his leather jacket.

He went up the stairs to knock at Cas’s door four minutes early. When Cas opened the door Dean just stared at him, not able to utter more than a “Um, hi…” at the sight of his neighbour wearing nothing but jeans.

“Hey. Uh, you’re early. Just let me get a shirt.”

“Of course…” Dean couldn’t take his eyes off of Cas as his neighbour turned around to go to his bedroom. He had immediately noticed the artist’s tattoo on his left side but was amazed by the tattoo that adorned Cas’s back. Beautiful, incredibly detailed dark wings seemed to grow out of his shoulder blades and covered his shoulders and upper arms.

Cas was back a few seconds later dressed in a black shirt. “Can we?”

“Um, sure…” Pull yourself together, Winchester. Jesus.

They went down the stairs and got into the Impala. Talking about Cas’s new commission – illustrations for a new children’s book – they arrived at the museum. Cas obviously was pretty nervous.

“I actually didn’t expect you to agree to go out with me in the first place,” he admitted when they were inside.

“Why not?” Dean arched a brow.

“I honestly didn’t know if you even were into guys and I never saw you with anyone but I thought I’d give it a shot.” Cas shrugged and smiled. “I’m glad I did.”

“Me too. So, how exactly is this exhibition structured?”

“It starts with contemporary art in the ground floor, the first floor has modern art and in the second you can see the old European masters like Titian and Vermeer. Contemporary art can be pretty interesting but they also have some really weird stuff. You wanna see it?”

“Yeah, I mean that’s why we’re here, right?”

Dean followed Cas through the ground floor. Cas was right, some of the exhibits looked weird as hell or like something a child could’ve painted but there were also really nice colourful portraits and interesting sculptures.

“You got a favourite piece here?”

“Yes, they have some impressionistic paintings and there’s a wonderful Renoir. It is incredibly beautiful. You have to see it! Come on.”

Without even really noticing it, Cas reached for Dean’s hand and pulled him to said painting. Dean smiled when he saw the admiring expression on Castiel’s face.

“It really is beautiful,” he murmured as he eyed the painting, lightly squeezing Cas’s hand.

“Thanks for coming here with me. This is a great date.” He smiled up at Dean.

“Yeah, definitely.” Dean smiled back and leaned down to kiss Cas softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I really hope you liked this AU and had fun reading it, I'd really appreciate comments :)

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to Kelly and Sue for your help and inspiration!


End file.
